


Through the Looking-Glass

by CallmeCordelia



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Abuse, But please heed the warning, Caligari Spell (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Sister-Sister Relationship, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:22:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25116841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallmeCordelia/pseuds/CallmeCordelia
Summary: Hilda gets a disturbing glimpse behind the curtain of Zelda's married life
Relationships: Hilda Spellman & Zelda Spellman
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	Through the Looking-Glass

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Please heed the warning for this fic. The noncon elements are not what I would call graphic, but it disturbed me to write it.

_Just a smidgeon more shadow on the left._

Her mouth falls open and her left eye squints- _an unflattering countenance_ , as the Zelda-esque voice in her head needlessly reminds her- when, speak of the Devil.

“Zelds?” Startling, she nearly smudges teal powder across her temple. “Zelds, is that you?”

“Please, Hilda, I don’t have much time. Listen closely. Father Blackwood has ruinous plans for the Church of Night and, in particular, its witches.” Zelda exhales a shuddering breath. “He wants the coven remade in his image, built on a foundation of misogyny, separate from the other unholy dioceses.”

“Can he leave the Churches of Darkness?”

“ _You_ must speak to Methuselah and the Witches’ Council. They’ll put a stop to this madness.” Hilda watches her sister savour that long drag on her cigarette, the rebellion of the act further sweetening it.

Hilda breathes a nervous laugh. “So… But what if-”

“Zelda dearest.” Hilda’s mouth snaps shut as _his_ voice interrupts her. “What are you doing?” 

Even from her hunched position, Hilda watches her sister’s figurine mask snap into place. 

“Why,” Zelda speaks in a breathy sigh, “making myself _beautiful_ for you, husband.” 

Doe eyes trained above the mirror, Zelda cakes another layer of fushia lipstick onto the perfect O that is her mouth. 

Hilda doesn’t dare breathe until the silencing spell takes effect. Worn wool sleeves bunch in her fists as she tracks Zelda’s gaze. Her sister’s smile tightens when a faint tinkering melody fills the room.

A hand plucks the smoking ring from her delicate fingers. “Dearest, I’ve never approved of this habit of yours. It’s most unbecoming.” He tsks, crushing the cigarette into the open book on Zelda’s right. “As is your choice of reading material.”

When the hand curls around Zelda’s pale wrist Hilda flinches for her.

“Yes, husband.”

“But...” The other hand appears, lifting Zelda’s chin. A clawed thumb grazes the swell of her bottom lip. “It would be a shame to let your efforts go to waste.” 

The whirring in Hilda’s mind screeches to a halt. Minutes lengthen as Blackwood makes a throne of the vanity table, blocking out Zelda entirely. There’s the snick of a zipper and Hilda’s stomach lurches. A warm bead of sweat rolls down her cheek. Or perhaps it’s a tear. 

She should move. She must move. Must do something. If only she could remember how.

Wood creaks. He hums. Glass bottles clink in a sickening rhythm that builds, faster and faster, until the kettle-pitched whistling in her ears drowns out all other sound. 

And then…Then it’s over. 

“Tidy up, Lady Blackwood.” 

As he slithers away, Zelda’s vacant smile comes into view. “Yes, husband.”

Once the door clicks closed behind him, Zelda’s smile falls. The fixed gaze remains.

“ _Oh, Zelds!_ “

She blinks, swipes at the smudged corners of her mouth. “Y-yes. As I was saying... You’ll need to- to convene the council. The sooner the better.”

__

__

“You can’t stay there. It’s-” She gasps. Coherent thought is returning in waves, along with her ability to breathe. “Not for another second. Come home. _Now._ ”

“And abandon my nephew? I think not.” Zelda smooths her mussed waves, rearranges perfume bottles, tosses her scorched copy of _Ars Notoria_ in the bin. 

“Zelda, look at me!” Her plea is thick and nasal, but effective nonetheless. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll find a way, but this- it isn’t- I should never’ve let you leave.” 

“You didn’t _let_ me do anything, I did it.” A lone tear treks down her otherwise composed face and Hilda, fool that she is, reaches to catch it. “And I’d do it again. Family comes first.”

Palm splayed against the mirror, Hilda needs Zelda to understand. “You’re _my_ family.”

Zelda raises a trembling hand. They meet each other, palm to palm, against cool glass. For a moment she feels the weight of Zelda’s burden spanning their connection and Hilda lets herself hope. 

She blinks against the welling tears. 

Blue shadowed eyes, rimmed in red, blink back at her.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't get this scene out of my head, especially the leering look Faustus gives Zelda before it cuts away.


End file.
